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- for this journal - this is me. a girl. do i just wish to float away? are too many ships passing? once again i feel docked to this world. to this ideal. i realize it all the time and take it with as much sugar as possible. but right now i feel here. i feel that this ship isn't moving. it's sinking. sure i've pulled up to port, but i got to keep this moving. like the shark, will i die if i stop moving? like water, will i become stagnant if i don't mingle in other waters? i feel the rot. it takes over such things as motivation. motivation to move this boat. to finish loading the cargo. fuck. i feel as if i'm going to tip over with cargo and all. turtle shell. capsize. but i must be here. i am not done yet. i have started so much, but i must finish just one thing so i can leave this place and venture out and test what i have learned. prove that there is meaning to this place. test myself and find out what i can do. who i am. sometimes i feel like i've already left. i create things that take me other places. i have to be producing. if i'm not creating, i have to subdue the mind with mental masturbation. music. films. skating. intoxicates. i find myself leaving this place as often as possible. mentally i leave via writing, music, and movies. they let me be someone with little cares. physically, i leave to la. this only prolongs the process of my final departure. sure i need to focus, but i feel that i might just fade away and what i have built and what i have left will be gone. maybe i will disappear. maybe i prolong since i'm scared of leaving. four years is a long time. a big investment. i fear. mentally. and i feel like i'm still floating on pacific ocean, living on a tiny little boat. breathing just to breathe. breathing till it stops.
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. . . [ written on 2005-08-02 ] |
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